


Impact

by Trajecks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Multi, Pre-Slash, The Roadhouse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4324860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trajecks/pseuds/Trajecks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are in luck today my friend, you're in the presence of the great and illustrious Doctor Badass.”<br/>Castiel feels relief and is grateful for his luck-<br/>to fall straight into the arms of a physician.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Impact

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative universe in which Cas ends up at the Roadhouse pre-All Hell breaks loose.  
> 

Castiel hits the ground and keeps going down until he hits bed rock.

Around him he can hear bubbling molten earth. This isn’t right. 

He needs to understand this.

He remembers being in Heaven for a very, very long time. 

Zacariah had come to him. He had been bestowed an honour. When the time came he would raise up the righteous man. 

He had gone to Uriel wanting to begin strategizing immediately.

“We should observe him in his mortality,” Uriel had advised, “take a vessel and familiarize ourselves with Earth as it is at this juncture.”

It had seemed a good plan. He does not know what failed. 

Castiel looks through the boiling dirt and can just see Jimmy Novak’s hand, the skin melting from what must be unbearable heat. He cannot feel Jimmy’s presence. It does not appear he has survived the fall.

Fall? Castiel cannot remember, he is sure this body is bruised all over from the impact of the ground but his left flank feels particularly brutalized, like something knocked into him with the force of a comet. He tentatively tries his wings, not destroyed but damaged. 

Above him, far above him, the hole his fall created must still be open, he could probably fly but with his wings as they are he decides to climb. 

It takes longer than he would like to climb high enough that his vessel (his body for now, he supposes) is not constantly burning and reforming as the heat tries to destroy him whilst his grace pulls him back from the edge. Eventually the earth around him is cool and he begins to see tiny centipedes and beetles nesting along the edges of the tunnel he has ripped through the earth.

Much later he begins to see the sun.

Well, he thinks it’s the sun. 

The last time he saw the sun from an earthly perspective it crossed the sky each day and set each night, the light penetrating Castiel’s tunnel seems to disappear every few minutes.

Perhaps the sun has changed since his last encounter with it?

The knuckles of his hands rip open as he pulls himself through a rocky layer of dirt but he does not feel this pain. His wings and the bruising on his grace, are excruciating. 

When finally he is just a few feet from the surface he realizes that the sun has not changed, it still shines with the same consistency it always has, but a human keeps looking down the hole and blocking it.

Castiel says nothing but observes closely as he continues his final assent.

It is a man, if he is not mistaken. His skin is tanned and his hair is long. Or some of it is, the hair on top appears shorter, sticking up in all directions. Castiel takes note of this, it is important to understand this time’s fashions.

The man is holding a device that emits a soft humming sound. Some kind of communicator?

Castiel speaks to it.

The device explodes.

A moment later Castiel opens his eye to find the explosion has pushed away the remaining earth and he is now laying on his back on the earth’s surface.

He sits up and sees the man sitting as well, leaning back on his arms and looking balefully between the smoking remains of his device and Castiel.

They’re in the desert, Castiel thinks. The air is thick with dust from the explosion but he can still see the faint outlines of what looks to be a town to the West. There is a deck chair and a large umbrella situated to his right and the ground is littered with cans that reek of ale (the labels read ‘Budweiser’ and Castiel reminds himself that language has changed).

The man has tossed aside his broken device and his focus is now all on Castiel. He looks a little bit impressed. 

“Well that’s a pretty big punch you’re packing my friend.” he says.

Castiel decides that replying with Jimmy’s voice would be wise.

“I would not strike you,” Jimmy’s voice is hoarse and gravelly but maybe that’s Castiel who has not spoken in thousands of years, “I was attempting speech, I apologize.”

The man smiles and nods standing up and brushing the first off his hands. Castiel does the same and marvels. Humans have come far indeed, the last time he walked among them they had been fearful and reverent. They have become accustomed to the divine if this man’s calm demeanour is anything to go by.

“So,” says the man observing Castiel and pulling a small notebook from his front pocket, “let’s get this sorted crater man, Kriptoanian?”

Castiel does not understand.

“No?” he guesses.

The man nods and crosses something out, “Good, Molepeople?”

Again Castiel’s vast linguistic knowledge fails him and he replies in the negative.

This continues for some time.

Eventually after Castiel has confirmed that no he hasn’t heard of a town called Roswell or and no he is not one of the Men in Black (The man looks distrustfully at his suit but seems to believe him) Castiel realizes this man is trying to identify him.

“I am an angel of the Lord.”

The man raises his eyes brows and looks surprised for a moment. Then he makes a note.

“Don’t look like much of an angel to me.” he says carefully and Castiel is pleased this man can understand the danger he poses.

He allows the great shadow of his wings to spread behind him.

The man’s face contorts, “They look pretty messed up dude.”

Castiel feels the exhaustion of his climb and the effort of presenting his damaged wings overwhelms him, he falls to his knees.

The man catches his arm and helps him to him feet again, “Woah there Angel boy, how’d you get yourself all torn up like this?”

Castiel is not sure himself.

“I crashed,” he states after a pause, “I believe I was….pushed?” he shakes his head, trying to clear away his confusion, “I need to heal.”

The man pulls Castiel’s arm over his shoulder to support his weight more fully and smiles wide.

“You are in luck today my friend, you are in the presence of the great and illustrious Doctor Badass.” 

Castiel feels relief and is grateful for his luck. To fall straight into the arms of a physician.

—

The doctor, Ash, as he insists Castiel call him, lives in a bar. Castiel is impressed at his ingenuity, what better place for a doctor than this, surrounded by hard liquor for sterilization. 

He sits Castiel down at the bar and goes about examining him with tools and devices unlike any he has seen a physician use before (but only after getting Castiel to agree not to talk to them).

Castiel has reservations. Impressive though Ash appears it is unlikely he has dealt with a wounded angel before, there may not be much he can do.

Castiel tells him as much and gets a finger waggled in his face for his trouble.

“Woah boy you did not just impugn my mad medical skills.”

Castiel politely explains that he was impugning his experience and not his skills.

Ash grins and continues taping Castiel’s arm with a metal rod Castiel suspects might be shocking him.

“You don’t worry about a thing,” he says, “I may not have fixed up a genuine angelic being before but my particular branch of badass-ery gives me a keen insight into the metaphysical, which is where I understand your injuries to exist.” 

Castiel frowns “Yes…I suppose that is accurate.”

“Trust me,” says Ash, putting aside the shocking rod and rummaging through his duffle bag for something, “you’re talking to a Master of the Mystical, Bringer of Order to the Chaos and He who shreds on Guitar Hero. If you can be fixed, I can fix you.” 

He finds what he was searching for and holds it out to Castiel.

“Now pee in this cup.”

Castiel examines the cup curiously. Ash raises a brow.

“Do you pee?”

—

It turns out he does pee but Ash isn’t totally sure that the pee he makes is coming from him.

Sometimes it’s not human. Sometimes it indicates Castiel is a woman. 

Sometimes it melts the cup.

Ash’s medical opinion is that it’s probably someone else’s pee.

It’s also Ash’s medical opinion that ‘Castiel’ is a ‘five-dollar-word’ so he introduces him to Ellen as ‘Cas’.

Cas isn’t sure what Ash tells her about him but from the way she scowls at him and mutters “Fukin’ witches…” he guesses it isn’t the truth.

Cas thinks that’s a good thing. He can’t sense Uriel anywhere so there’s no telling how long it will be until he’s found. The last thing he needs to do is interfere at this preliminary stage. Ash has taken the existence of angels well but Cas can’t be sure other humans will react as calmly.

There have been problems before. Riots and an incident involving a quilting circle. Cas is not eager to incite anything.

Not that Ellen seems the quilting type. She makes a point of showing him her baseball bat and telling him she’s got a swing that could knock out a guy twice his size. Cas is pretty sure she’s into sports.

He tries to talk to her about Pelota Purepecha but it seems to have fallen out of fashion sometime in the last 2000 years judging by the look he gets when he says ‘flaming puck’. 

He gives up on conversation and instead watches her work. It’s nearly 2 am and the crowd is starting to thin out. Ash had been helping out behind the bar earlier but now he’s standing atop the pool table playing an invisible guitar. Cas smiles.

Ellen looks over when he does and cocks an eyebrow at him.

“So you and Ash…” she starts slowly, “you guys are…special friends?”

Cas is startled by the question.

“Friends,” he says, testing out the word, “I…I don’t know, I’ve never had…my brothers and sisters were my only friends…where I’m from.”

Ellen frowns at him, “Lotta siblings huh? I never really got families like that…do you miss ‘em?”

“Very much,” he tells her because it’s true. He’s only been here a day in earth time but up until now he’s never been a second without their constant company.

Ellen’s frown deepens and the song Ash has been ‘jammin out’ to ends. The next one is slower and it cheers Cas up some.

“My siblings they all…we all sing, I miss their voices.” He tells her.

Ellen stares at him for a moment and says nothing. Then she disappears into the back room and when she comes back she’s holding a dirty old mop.

Immediately Ash lets out a woop.

He vaults down off the pool table and then he’s done with his imaginary guitar and fully devoted to singing into his imaginary microphone. 

He is truly, truly awful.

Ellen looks back over at Cas, “We sing around here too.” She tells him with a shrug before picking up a rag off the edge of the bar and throwing it at Cas’ chest. “We also earn our keep.”

Cas picks up the rag and dutifully starts wiping down the bar top. 

He doesn’t know the song but he tries to hum it anyway.

_

The room Cas is staying in is small and dusty and fascinating.

The room belongs to Ellen’s daughter Jo who is ‘off trying to give me a heart attack’ according to Ellen. Ash says she’s hunting. 

Cas isn’t sure why Ellen is worried if this room is anything to go by Jo is more than capable of taking care of herself.

There’s a devil’s trap carved at every entry point and a thin line of salt pushed into a grove that runs around the whole room. 

He pulls a novel off the shelf and opens it to find the inside has been replaced with a book South American demonic lore. It’s the same for almost every book except a small thin children’s picture book with ‘Cinderella’ on the cover. 

That one really is about Cinderella.

When he goes to sit on the bed he finds knife the size of his forearm under there pillow and when he puts it away in the drawer beside the bed he discovers a false bottom covering a gun and three bottles of holy water. 

It’s a hunter’s room.

Cas opens the wardrobe and a pair of eyes stare back at him.

He acts on instinct. The angel blade slips into his palm and he stabs between those eyes. A moment before he makes contact he realises he has misjudged the danger.

Ash finds him a few moments later tugging the blade from the wooden door of the wardrobe where he had lodged it.

“I was startled.” he tries to explain feebly.

Ash draws level with him and stares inside the wardrobe at the life sized poster (captioned “J.T”) is now sporting an angel blade sized hole in the subject’s forehead.

He looks very amused and when he speaks Cas thinks he might be trying not to laugh, “Don’t worry man, we all were, no one thought micky mouse club could bring sexy back.”

Cas has the feeling he’s being laughed at anyway.

Angel blade tucked away again Cas sits down on the bed and closes his eyes, listening. He still can’t hear any of the others. He tries to focus on Uriel who must be looking out looking for him but all he hears is a static noise and something low and reverberating underneath it. He thinks he can hear Ash staring at him and when he opens his eyes he sees that he is.

He’s also holding something small and metallic out.

“Here,” he says handing the thing to Cas, “it’s my old phone, I never used it anyway there’s barely any reception out here. But the Roadhouse’s number is in there and so is Ellen’s cell and some others so you can call us if you get lost or wake up in Australia or something.” his eyes squint and he looks suddenly curious, “Hey what’s the deal with platypuses, why is that a thing?”

Cas finds himself smiling as he plays with the buttons on the phone, “Some mysteries aren’t meant for human ears Ash.”

He hears Ash snort but doesn’t look up from the phone. He’s managed to pull up a list of names.

“The Offices of Doctor Badass,” he reads aloud, “Mother Hen.”

“That’s Ellen,” Ash says helpfully.

Cas doesn't know any of the names on the list (BobCat-Hatman, Old-Dog, Message Bank) but he’s pretty sure Jo must be ‘Cinderhella’.

He keeps scanning down and he finds himself staring at two names. He doesn't know them either but he can hear that static again and he feels his stomach drop.

“One Righteous Dude and Paul Bunyan?” he asks.

Ash barks out a laugh, “Oh those are some hunter friends of ours, The Winchesters, good kids. Ellen’s known ‘em forever.” He must see something of Cas’ face because his smile dies and he speaks soberly, “What? That mean something to you?”

Cas looks back down at the phone examining the message tones so he doesn't have to make eye contact.

“A lot of things here mean something to me, don’t trouble yourself, as far as I can tell, everything is as it should be” he selects something called ‘Inception Horns’ and tries to feel less like he’s lying.

When he looks back up, Ash looks grim, “Just more Platypuses huh?”

Cas nods slowly, “Yes, more of those.”

_

Cas has been at The Roadhouse for three nights when the demons come. 

Ash is sleeping soundly on the pool table, empty bottle of tequila held tightly to his chest. When Cas senses the demons he briefly considers waking him but…

His heart beats furiously against the inside of his ribcage.

He is a warrior caged and bound, he cannot let the opportunity pass him by.

He makes his way to the kitchen and crouches down by the door leading out to the dumpsters. As silently as he can, he pulls the door ajar.

From this angle he can see two of them but he senses another patrolling out front. One of them has a shovel and is digging whilst the other stands watch, a large black duffle bag thrown over his shoulder.

The shovelling one goes rigid and looks sharply back at his accomplice.

“Are you holding that thing right?” he whispers, “I’m feeling a heat and I do not feel like going up with this place.”

The demon with the bag is frowning and adjusts his hold on the bag, “Just shut the fuck up and dig so I can put it down.” 

It takes a moment for Cas to realize that they’re actually feeling him. His power. His grace.

The digging demon looks nervous and his arms are shaking as he shovels.

Cas feels that excitement well up inside him again and he stands, feeling silly for having hidden at all. He opens the door fully and lets it bang loudly against the outside wall.

Immediately the shovelling demon coming for him, shovel now raised in attack.

When he is just two feet away skids to a sudden stop. Over his shoulder the other demon is frozen as well and in the distance the third is already running for the horizon.

That’s fine, Cas will catch him.

In the closest demon’s black eyes Cas can see Jimmy’s face, his face, reflected back at him. He smiles wide, takes a step forward and reaches out.

—

It does not take more than 5 minutes to for Cas to run the final demon down. When he arrives back at The Roadhouse he examines the demon’s bag.

Inside is a device, it is metal and has lights and a clock that seems to be counting down to next week. He doesn’t like the clock at all, time should not be limiting like that.

Shaking his head he abandons the device to haul the demon corpses inside. When all three are lined up on the floor by the pool table he wakes Ash who after some confusion, tells him he’s the best cat he’s ever had.

Cas frowns disappointed by the reaction, he’d hoped his victory would be pleasing to Ash but the man just looks troubled.

Perhaps if he shows him the device? Ash enjoys devices…

—

Ash does not like the device at all but once he has dismantled it Ellen grabs Cas in a hug and does not let go for a long time. 

Cas thinks that is acceptable.

—

The Winchesters are here and Cas should probably be taking the opportunity to study them (as he and Uriel had planned) but he finds it difficult to focus, they are very facially symmetrical.

They’re leaning side by side over the bar talking to Ellen who’s filling them in on last night. They haven’t been introduced yet but Cas figures they’ll come over with questions when Ellen tells them he exorcised 3 demons single handed so he doesn’t need to get up to say hello.

And if that means he gets to stay here in the furthest corner playing cards with Ash, well that’s just fine.

Ash hasn’t spoken much since disarming the explosive. 

Cas suspects he’s chosen this seat so he can keep his back to the wall.

He won’t go anywhere near the pool table. The tunnel the demons were digging lead right under it. 

Cas doesn’t like it, this subdued Ash. Now having seen the Winchesters and their symmetry he is struck by how bold Ash’s asymmetrical everything really is. This doctor who refuses his station. This man with a bed who sleeps on a game. This head of flowing mane that retreats upon his brow.

Cas can see none of this in today’s quiet Ash.

He wants to ask about it but Cas is beginning to understand this ‘metaphysical’ and he’s pretty sure his questions will slam him face first into a wall that isn’t there.

Instead he asks if Ash has any 7’s. Ash suggests he fish.

Sam crosses over to them and Cas holds very still and does not flinch at The Boy with the Demon Blood.

“Ash man, I’m so glad you guys are alright, we’ll fix this I promise.” says Sam looking far too earnest for Lucifer’s potential vessel. There are others it could be of course but Sam…

Cas’ gaze flickers to the brother briefly.

Well there is so much symmetry with Sam.

“-thanks to my angel here.” says Ash, startling Cas with the term.

Sam’s eyebrow shoot up “Oh...urgh,” he says intelligently, “I didn’t know you…I just mean that I figured you were...”

Ash looks unfazed by Sam’s bumbling, “I do not conform to binaries, especially when they restrict my carnality.”

Cas struggles to decode what is doubtless another exercise in human subtext but he can make neither heads nor tales of it.

“So you’re..?” Sam questions.

Ash rolls his eyes and throws a careless arm around Cas’ shoulders.

“I’m an ass man.”

“He has a doctorate in it.” Cas adds, still unsure but heartened by the weight of Ash’s arm.

“I can get behind that,” says Dean as he approaches.

Ash glares, “You certainly cannot.”

Dean grins and takes a seat down across the table from Cas “Wow, touchy.

“Well you’ll forgive me, I had a near explosion experience this morning. Feeling a little bit possessive of the tangible.” says Ash bitterly.

Cas feels the hand on his shoulder tense and leans his weight toward him.

“I would not allow your intangibility.” he assures Ash.

Ash looks away from his stare-down and smiles for the first time since Cas showed him the bomb.

“Yeah you’re a real diamond from the dirt aren’t ya.” he says quietly.

“Rough,” says Sam.

Cas smiles back at Ash, “Yes, the dirt is rough indeed.”

“This is just adorable guys but do you think you could give us a rundown of your triple shot exorcism.” says Dean impatiently, “That’s a mighty useful trick you got there.”

Cas looks away from Ash and tells the brothers exactly what Ash had told Ellen.

He tells them that he is from a community of witches far away. That within that community his fellow residents have each studied a discipline of magic. They had lived harmoniously until the discipline of fire, of destruction, had staged a revolution, overthrowing them all. He tells them that the other disciplines were marginalized. He tells them that he fled when his order was massacred and that he is the last being trained in the art of soul bending.

“And then,” Ash had told him hurriedly that morning, “we hope they ain’t never seen the Last Airbender...”

The brothers buy it (there is no reason not to, Cas supposes) but the whole encounter leaves Cas with an unpleasant feeling, like vines growing in his chest. 

Cas watches the brothers until they disappear out the front door with Ellen. When he turns away he sees Ash eyeing him speculatively.

“So what did you think of ‘em?” He asks, sounding casual despite his pinched expression.

“They were,” Cas isn’t sure what they were, young he thinks, “very symmetrical, facially I mean.” He finally says.

Ash looks perturbed for a moment but it disappears quickly, “Oh yeah that… that’s well it’s very sad.” He says slowly.

Cas is intrigued.

Ash takes a sip of the beer he’s been ignoring up until now and seems to steal himself, “It’s just here on earth that kind of symmetry…it’s a terrible disfigurement, very sad, mutated you might even say.”

“Mutated…” Cas looks out the window where he can just see the profile of Sam’s face. It makes some sense, Lucifer and Michael would want to appear intimidating.

Sam shifts to the side a bit and Cas can see Dean smiling next to him.

“Even Dean?” Cas asks without meaning to speak.

Ash’s expression is very dark indeed. 

“Especially Dean,” he tells Cas, “but also Sam. Freakishly tall, very unsettling, those poor ugly sunava bitches. Just dealt a bad hand. Any Jacks?”

Cas looks away from the window to his own hand of cards and extracts a jack from the spectrum.

“Couldn't I just tell you I don't have any, even if I did?”

Ash looks pleased as he leans over the table to pick up the card. He looks relaxed and amused and a lot more like himself.

"I suppose you could."

_

The Winchesters are going to be staying in town a while to prepare. Ash tries to tell Cas what for but he stops him. The more he knows the more he can affect. It’s not like he doesn’t have his own things to worry about anyway. His wings are healing slowly and the bruise on his grace even slower.

Cas wonders if it’s really healing at all. It hasn’t felt right since he crawled out of the earth and he thinks it might be weaker still after burning out those demons.

And he still isn’t convinced he’s supposed to be able to pee.

“Well I’m sure it’s fine,” Says Ash, sounding certain, “but just as a back-up why don’t we get you familiar with our earthy forms of ass-kick-ery as well, so you’re not wasting your energy on soul sucking every two-bit monster mash who tries to knock you over.”

This apparently means Ash is going to teach him how to use a gun.

They go out back of the road house and Ash sets up some cans.

“I do have my Angel Blade,” Cas tells him, looking distrustfully at the pistol Ash hands him.

“You do,” Ash concedes, “and it is certainly and effective neutralizer, but it ain’t exactly a distance weapon.”

He jumps about a foot when the blade comes whizzing past him and slices through the can he just placed down.

“Okay,” Says Ash nodding a little shaky, “but now what?” He pulls the blade from the can, “you got one strike with it like that, and I know that it’ll be a hit but once you’ve chucked it you don’t have anything to defend yourself with…” he looks suspiciously at Cas, “you only got the one…right?”

Cas nods and considers his point. It would be helpful to be able to fight without risking his grace. If it really isn’t healing then it might be…no, he hasn’t fallen, he crashed. Uriel will find him, he’ll know what to do. Ash stands next to him and directs him how to hold the gun and corrects his stance.

“Now just breathe out slowly. Point,” he gestures towards the cans, “and shoot. But go gentle on the trigger…like real gentle on account of how I’m pretty sure you could squeeze it into scrap metal.” Cas does what he says and when he pulls the trigger the bullet hits the can dead centre. 

Ash is surprised, “Oh well, yeah you got it alright.”

“I’m a soldier,” Cas says simply, “Everything about my existence has been formed to fight, weaponry is familiar to me.”

“I mean yeah,” says Ash scratching the back of his neck, “but I just wasn’t sure if…if he-“ he waves his hand at Cas- at Jimmy, Cas realizes suddenly, “I just thought muscle memory might be a thing.”

Cas had not considered this. He flexes, his, Jimmy’s fingers around the grip of the pistol and it feels easy and comfortable in his hold. Come to think of it Jimmy was left handed and Cas is pretty sure he’s ambidextrous. In this body. In his body?

“There is no memory of any kind here.” He says slowly, unsure, “It has forgotten him entirely, it is moulding to my presence I believe.”

Ash looks at him nervously, “And what does that mean ‘bout your grace, if you’re getting more physical less meta?”

Cas looks back at the gun gripped perfectly in his palm, “I don’t know-“

A loud horn blares and Cas narrowly avoids shooting Ash in surprise. The bullet flies past him and takes out Ellen’s bug zapper.

Ash stares at him wide eyed, “Mother of fuckery dude. Yeah I see it now ‘formed to fight’, so glad I got you around to take out two-dimensional heart throbs and save them flies from extinction.”

Cas is still on edge, staring around for the source of the sound.

Ash rolls his eyes, “I think it’s your phone, Quartermaine. Someone’s texting you.” 

Cas pulls the phone from his pocket and blinks at it, “Everyone I know is here.”

Ash opens his mouth to speak but stops himself, expression turning concerned.

“Well read it.” He says finally.

Cas fumbles with the buttons for a moment but manages to open the message.

He falls silent and reads through it once and then again, to be sure he understands.

He raises his head and looks back at Ash’s tense expression.

“Message Bank wants to know if I want to know how to make better use of its services,” He tells Ash frankly, “I think I would as I do not have even a novice understanding of its services.”

Ash stares at him for a moment then seems to recover.

He throws a can at his head.

Cas catches it but the sentiment still gets across and Cas does not reply ‘yes’ for more information.

_

Ellen’s daughter is coming home and her mother seems panicked. On Monday she cleans the whole place top to bottom. Scrubbing the floors on her hands and knees and hollering at Ash over the industrial size hair ball in the shower drain. On Tuesday she pours the Winchesters sloppy shots that dribble all over the bar top because “I certainly ain’t cleaning up my joint for that runaway princess.”

On Wednesday she just sits out back on an old tire with a rope tied around it, like it used to be a swing.

On Thursday Cas brings her a pot of wildflowers he picked from out back near the swing. Then he knocks it all over the floor.

She laughs and laughs.

Dean furrows his brow when he sees the mess Cas has made.

Cas tells him he’s sorry about his face.

Then Ash is laughing too.

_ 

Friday rolls around and the Winchesters want to have a ‘Welcome Home’ party for Jo. Jo herself turns up around two in the afternoon.

She’s all symmetrical too but she stands with her shoulders back and her chin up and Cas doesn’t think anyone could look at her and not think her magnificent. Like a warrior.

He tells Ellen as much during the party. They’re both standing around behind the bar. Cas is hiding from the Winchesters who think they might die saving the world instead of ending it and he suspects Ellen is hiding too.

When he tells her she smiles at him in that way she’s been doing since the near-explosion experience, “A warrior huh? I guess she is now...” She looks down at the bar staring straight through her untouched whiskey, “she didn’t used to be, used to be she wouldn’t stand up straight less some boy called her short.”

Jo herself standing across the room laughing her way through a story from her hunting.

“She’s still short,” says Ellen fondly, “but now I reckon she might climb on over those boy’s so she can get a better view.”

Cas feels like he’s missed something but nods anyway.

Ellen makes her way back into the party leaving Cas to study the room. Dean is sitting by Ash in the far corner with a petite blonde Cas thinks he might have met but he’s not sure. They’re both laughing at something Ash is saying. Ash himself is smiling lazily and wiggling his eyebrows in a way that seems slightly perverse.

And Sam is…walking straight towards Cas.

“Hello Sam,” He says politely, once again focusing on not flinching “Can I get you something?”

Sam smiles a small friendly smile that almost makes Cas want to snap at him that they aren’t friends. He only has one friend and he isn’t going to end the world or die. “Just a beer?” Sam says with that same reckless ease.

Cas’ hands shake when he passes it over the bar top and he is very careful not to touch Sam.

Sam thanks him and looks back over his shoulder at his brother, his smile slips a little.

“He loves coming back here,” Says Sam eyeing Dean, “Doesn’t like admitting it but I think he’d love anywhere he got to come back to.”

“Do you? Like it here?” asks Cas.

Sam turns back to face him looking a little surprised Cas answered at all, “Sometimes… sometimes it just reminds me of why I can’t go back anyplace else,” He takes a long sip of his beer and sighs, “I’m not…built for this.”

Cas can see that.

No matter how much he wishes he couldn’t.

Sam’s face screws up and he lets out a hiss of pain.

“Dammit I-,” he cuts off and stumbles and before Cas knows what he’s doing he’s got a hand under Sam’s arm and he’s all that’s keeping him from face planting onto the bar.

Cas is startled and stares at his hand where it grips Sam.

Eventually Sam seems to recover and he rightens himself.

“Wow,” he starts, turning a rueful grin on Cas, “I guess my hangover’s come early.”

Dean is by his side in an instant looking concerned and afraid.

“You okay there Sammy?” he asks his voice rough from drink.

Sam smiles and nods, “Yeah I’m fine, just might be my bed time.”

“I’ll go up with you,” says Dean immediately.

For a moment Cas thinks Sam might protest but Dean’s face seems to broker no argument so he just nods again.

Dean turns to Cas and gives him a funny look.

“That alright with you there buddy?”

Cas doesn't understand why he’s asking until he realizes his hand is still on Sam’s arm. He can feel Sam’s pulse beating beneath it, a little too fast. Still afraid, he thinks.

He releases Sam muttering an apology.

Dean smiles easily, “Hey no problem man,” he cants his head towards his brother, “kid needs all the help he can get.”

They both turn away and Cas can see Sam bating away Deans own hands as he tries to help him to his room.

They can’t know it won’t be enough. The burdens too heavy for human shoulders.

Cas knows it isn’t enough.

Ash is sitting on his own now in the far corner. Cas makes his way over to sit by him.

When he sees him coming Ash raises his mostly empty tumbler in his direction.

“The man of the hour!” he slurs, happy and loud.

Cas sinks into the seat next to him and laughs quietly, “I thought this was Jo’s party?”

“It is! To JO!” he toasts again loudly, draining the tumbler this time. When he sets it back on the table he carries on, undeterred, “It’s Jo’s party alright but you’re still the man of the hour tonight, tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Cas asks.

Ash nods and looks much more sober than he did a moment ago, “The bomb, the thing you found-“

Cas knows it’s called a bomb now.

“-it was meant to go off tomorrow sometime…early I think, I woulda been dead by sunrise…” He looks scared for a moment but he’s smiling by the time he meets Cas’ gaze, “but that’s not going to happen. Not with my angel around. Was meant to be. Can’t stop it can’t change it, can’t beat it. Fate with a capital F baby.” He giggles drunkenly.

All at once Cas feels very, very cold.

His head whips around so face it makes his neck hurt but he pays it no mind. He scans the crowd again, more intently this time until he sees her. The blonde who was laughing with Dean and Ash before. The one Cas thought he’d met. He has met her.

But not here.

She catches him staring and her brow furrows. She shakes her head, just a little. A group of hunters pass in front of her and when they move away she’s gone.

The cold feeling turns to panic.

He turns back to Ash and scans him for any injury but he’s just bobbing his head enthusiastically to the music, a contented smile on his face.

It doesn't mean anything though.

If Atropos is here for him she won’t need a bomb to take him out.

Just a little bit of unstoppable, unchangeable, unbeatable Fate.

Ash is too far gone to catch Cas’ sudden worry so he just smiles and keeps talking, “So it’s nothing but blue skies for me, I got you, I got my girls back together," he gestures over where Ellen and Jo are smiling and chatting happily, “and I am this close,” he holds his thumb and forefinger up, almost touching but not quite, “to sorting out something real useful for them Winchesters, been working on it for a while, thought it was a coincidence but…” he looks off into the distance as if seeing something that isn’t there, “no, definitely not, it’s the real deal. I think.”

“I think you’re right.” Cas finds himself saying.

As looks at him critically for a moment then smiles wide, “No you don’t, you know I’m right, you know the whole score.”

Cas feels warm under the affection, he does know the whole score and if he speaks right now he thinks he might just tell Ash whose really winning.

He says nothing and pretends to take a sip of Ash’s drink but it’s long empty now.

_

Jo has taken back her room for the night. Ellen tries to usher Cas into one of the spares but he insists Ash sleep in an actual bed tonight and then sits outside the room all night.

He almost burst through the door around 4 am because he’s apparently sitting in a reception area and 3 messages come through at once scaring him badly with the horn message tone. All of them are from Message Bank. 

Cas almost texts back ‘no’ to receiving more notifications about updating his storage, GPS tracking and exclusive offers to win a trip to Tahiti respectively but he doesn't.

In the silence all he hears is static.

He waits and hopes for another message to come and block it out but no more come.

_

Morning comes and Ash is safe in bed.

But Sam is missing.

_

Dean wants to run off in any direction that feels right to find his brother but Ellen tells him to shut up and calls Bobby Singer.

Ash shuts himself away in his tiny computer hub and stares at maps. He really is very close but Cas thinks he might be beating himself up for not getting this done sooner. He’s been distracted. Cas distracted him.

Bobby arrives sometime after noon and immediately goes to join Dean where he’s been pacing a hole in the dirt next to his car.

Cas can’t hear what they’re saying but at one point Dean kicks the front tire and screws up his face. He doesn’t look so symmetrical like that.

Cas asks if he can help and Ellen tells him they work better with pretzels so Cas goes to pick some up. 

He’s walked to the convenience store before, with Dean actually. It’s not too far but the way is a bit confusing. The static is loud now but Cas doesn’t mind the distraction is nice. He takes his time on the walk there, not eager to get back. Afraid of what he’ll find.

Maybe Ash, electrocuted by his monitor for the sake of Atropos’ balance.

Maybe the whole place will blow up anyway.

Probably just everything as he left it. All these friends he has now trying to save Sam not knowing all Cas’ siblings wait eagerly to doom him.

He remembers Dean with him here at the store on Tuesday, how he’d pointed out those ‘stupid fru-fru nut bars’ Sam likes and then picked one up for him anyway.

He’s dooming them both, really.

He grabs the pretzels and pays with the money Ellen gave him. He doesn’t freak out the cashier like he did last time (“Dude, avert the laser stare” Dean had told him.) and he doesn’t examine every colorfully packaged item as though it were a rare heirloom.

When he gets outside he stretches out his wings and flies to roadhouse in a panic.

_

He’s too late. Dean had some kind of vision. He and Bobby are gone.

_

Cas wants to go after them but he can’t fly again. He feels foolish for doing it now, if his grace was drained before now it’s running on empty. He tries to call Dean but he can’t find that spot of reception again and when he uses the land line it goes straight to voice mail.

He could ask Ash to take him after them but…

Atropos wouldn’t be able to resist them driving straight into danger like that. Ash wouldn’t make it there alive.

Naturally, this is the moment that Ash finds his very own danger to throw himself into.

He’s figured out the maps, Sam Colt’s state-wide devils trap.

“If Sam isn’t where they’re going that’s where he’ll be, I gotta check it out.” Ash says gathering up supplies.

“Jo could go,” Cas says panicked, “or Ellen, I’ll go, I’ll go and tell you if there’s anything there.”

Ash shakes his head grabbing the keys to Ellen’s truck and making for the door, “Jo and Ellen gotta be here to tell ‘em when they get back since those two technologically illiterate geniuses have got their phones off.” He’s halfway out the door now, maps scrunched up under one arm, “You can come if you’re up to it but…you ain’t looking so hot.”

Cas knows he must look worse than that. Crash landing or not. Pushed or not. Cas can’t hear any of his brothers and sisters anymore and that means something. He isn’t getting better and this body doesn't remember Jimmy.

“I’m falling.” He tells Ash simply, “My connection to Heaven is severed, I’ll be human soon I think, mostly at least.” 

“Oh.” says Ash.

Cas smiles a thin grim smile and lets out a breath, It is no matter, I must go with you, you are mine to keep safe now.”

Ash looks somewhere between touched and concerned but time is running out so he just nods and walks out the door.

Cas follows him out and takes the pistol Ash hands him and climbs into the passenger’s side and breathes slowly as Ash starts the car. He only takes his eyes off Ash once when they get out of the no reception range to try to send a text to Ellen.

He opens the contact ‘Mother Hen’ and stares at the blank display.

After a moment, he closes it without writing anything. He’s not sure if he should thank her or apologize. He wants to tell her she deserves to live. There’s a voice in his head that tells him that would be creepy, it sort of sounds like Dean.

Message Bank has sent him another text.

‘Want to Link-Up with Family and Friends?!’ it asks.

He exits the message and goes back to watching Ash

_ 

They drive all night and don’t stop until they reach the iron tracks. Ash has another device with an LED light that’s flashing rapidly and he walks over and kneels down.

Cas walks away a little but not so far that he can’t see him at all. 

He doesn’t want to walk away at all but Atropos is standing at the tree line and he’s pretty sure time is stopped anyway.

“Castiel,” she greets smiling sadly, “I’m sorry but you know how this works, his time is up.”

It’s strange to be called by his real name. It doesn’t feel right.

“I do know how this works. Fate can be changed.” 

“It can,” she agrees, irritatingly calm, “but only if the precipitating factor is changed, and it wasn’t Castiel, his fate was written a while ago, before you met him, I can’t let him live.”

“They need him.” Says Cas, “The Winchesters, he’s invaluable, he figured this out all on his own.”

Atropos looks confused, “Castiel…they aren’t supposed to figure things out, they’re supposed to play their parts. Just like we are, you shouldn’t even be here yet. What are you doing here?”

“I-," Cas starts, thrown off, “Uriel didn’t tell them?”

“Uriel? He said you wanted to look in on the Winchesters and when this-" she gestures over to where Ash is still frozen on the tracks, “happened he warned me that you’d gone rogue, look at you Castiel, you’re falling, what were you thinking?”

The static buzzes loud in his ears and Cas thinks his message tone might be sounding but he can’t hear it properly.

“Castiel,” she says, gently, “it’s so confusing down here, we have to go, leave them to their fate, let them get back on track.”

He hears his phone go off again with another text but he doesn’t look away from Atropos, “I don’t think this is the right track, their fate isn’t sealed yet, you need more dominos to fall before we get to that point.”

“And they’re going to Castiel,” she tells him looking pitying, “Castiel, they’re falling right now.”

His phone makes another noise and that’s when he remembers time is supposed to be stopped.

He doesn’t even think about it.

In an instant he flies to Ash’s side.

There’s a man in fatigues with a knife shoved deep up under Ash’s ribcage. Some part of him remembers he knew this, this is Jake, this is one of the possible vessels.

He doesn’t look like a vessel now, he looks terrified, staring at where Cas has appeared, too shocked to even dislodge his knife. Ash’s blood is dribbling over his fingers.

Cas tries to be like he was before, the warrior caged. Calculated and tactical. Everything that he is is made to fight and fight well. 

But he’s just so angry.

He doesn’t even try to conserve his grace, he throws a punch and catches Jake hard in the side of the face sending him sprawling to the other side of the tracks.

Ash falls to the ground but there’s not time to check him now. Cas can’t even see him, there’s just Jake now.

Jake is getting up and coming for him and Cas knows he’s losing strength fast. He flies just out of reach when Jake lunges for him but stumbles on the landing.

Stupid. He needs to calm down.

He can’t.

Jake lunges again and this time gets him by the shoulders and slams him into the ground.

The pain is blinding and suddenly he can’t see Jake either. He can feel Jake’s hands clamping down hard. The bones in his right arm start to shatter. Bone fragments splinter into muscle and Cas screams. It’s so strange it pulls him up short, he’s never screamed before.

He’s never had to, he’s a warrior.

With a blade.

He feels the blade materialize in his left hand (Jimmy’s good hand, he thinks wildly) and he knows that’s it. That’s the last of it. He jams it into Jake. Under the ribs. Just like Ash.

Jake’s weight is off him in an instant. He’s stumbling back but Cas isn’t taking chances. He reaches behind him to where the pistol is tucked into his pants and levels it at Jakes head. His aim is wobbly, his right arm is useless and weighing him down. He misses the first shot.

Jake looking panicked but determined. Azazel might be here now, where Cas can’t see, pumping Jake up, somewhere in the meta physical.

Ash has been stabbed, Cas remembers.

He fires again.

He doesn’t miss this time.

Jake goes down hard and Cas feels himself collapse too. He is human now. His arm will not heal and there is no one her to tend to him. He looks over at it and feels bile rise up his throat. If he had ever eaten anything he’s pretty sure this is when he would vomit.

The force of Jake’s strength has ripped open the skin. A mess of bone and blood and muscle is protruding badly. 

He feels tried. 

That’s the blood loss.

That’s okay.

He got Jake.

Maybe he stopped it.

“Angel face.” He hears Ash groan out.

Very, very slowly, he rolls himself to look at Ash. They’re closer than he thought. Although he hadn’t been thinking that much really.

“Hey there you,” Says Ash smiling, there’s blood on his lips.

“Hello,” Cas replies and he’s smiling too though he has no idea why, “Do you think you can fix yourself up doctor?”

Ash chuckles and there’s more blood but he doesn’t seem to notice, “Not this time, ‘snot really my field you know, healing,” his expression turns grim, “o’course you know that. I’m sorry, I said I’d fix you.” He looks at Cas’ useless limp arm, “’stead I’m pretty sure broke you worse.”

Ash’s hair looks even wilder than usual, there’s blood in it. Looks like Jake probably got him over the head before he stabbed him. It’s looping in a gravity defying way to hang across his face and some of it is stuck inside his mouth.

“I feel a lot better actually.” Says Cas.

Ash snorts with laughter, “You’re in shock dumbass, so am I,”

Cas doesn’t know what that means exactly but Ash doesn’t seem scared. 

Once again he can’t believe his luck, to fall straight into the arms of a doctor.

‘Of a friend.’ Comes the afterthought. No one has ever been so lucky.

There’s a loud horn noise and Ash groans but he sounds amused.

“Man you got the neediest service provider ever.”

Cas grins and reaches into his pocket with his good hand and pulls out the phone. He’s getting good at it. The messages are all the same and Cas laughs loudly.

He looks back at Ash and reads aloud, “Need a hand getting started with Message Bank?”

Ash lets out a wet chuckle that coats his chin with blood. 

“I don’t think a hand’s gonna do it for me,” he says, wheezing, “but yours is pretty fucked up, could be just what you need.” 

Cas can’t actually feel all that much of his arm anymore but it also doesn’t hurt so he doesn’t really mind. 

He taps out a ‘YES’ and sends it before turning the phone so Ash can see. 

For an instant he thinks Ash is smiling at the text but then he doesn’t move at all and Cas realizes he can’t hear the laboured sound of Ash’s breath anymore. 

The static sound gets louder in his ears and he lays back to stare at the sky. Some birds are flying in V-formation. They’re heading away from where he knows the Hell Gate is. Maybe he didn’t stop anything. 

He can almost hear the birds over the sound of the static but he still can’t hear Ash breathing. 

He didn’t stop enough. 

The message tone sounds again and it’s so loud he tries to move his destroyed arm to cover his ears but it doesn’t even twitch. 

It’s getting dark quickly and he can barely see. When he looks down to see his message the screen is dark too. The battery is dead. 

He shuts his eyes and listens to the birds and the static. 

And the sounds of horns. 

Cas forces his eyes open again but the phone is still dead but he is not alone anymore. Someone is staring down at him. 

He tries to speak but the urge to vomit has returned and he has to force back the sick to keep from choking. 

It’s all too much and this time he can’t stop his eyes closing. 

He can’t hear the static anymore. 

Instead he hears, “Jeez kid, one week on earth and you’re already too hipster to answer a fucking text message?” 

He feels a warm hand on his forehead and then there’s nothing else. 

_

2008 - 2 years later.  
_

Dean was pretty surprised when the mysterious ‘Uriel’ strode into the barn, spread his mad spectral wings and declared himself an angel but watching one-armed-knife-wielding-thought-you-were-dead Cas get the jump on him just minutes later probably trumps it. 

He doesn’t really get time to deal with it. No sooner has Cas pulled the knife out of Uriel than he’s being shouted at to close his eyes. 

He can’t see what happens but the insides of his eyelids glow red so he’s guessing it was pretty bright. 

The light fades and Dean peaks out. Cas is leaning over Bobby, checking his pulse. 

“He’s alright,” says Cas, “just unconscious I believe. My brother, Gabriel, will be here soon, he can wake him up.” 

Dean just nods, too many questions stunning his ability to speak at all. 

It’s definitely Cas, the guy’s still got that trench coat. He’s wearing it over a band-T now with holey jeans. It looks ridiculous. He’s got more stubble than face and there is the whole ‘missing an arm’ thing but Dean doesn’t think he’d forget that laser gaze. 

Besides, he’s pretty sure he’s wearing Ash’s watch. 

Cas has moved away from Bobby now and is cutting a deep gouge into his own arm. It jerks Dean out of his stupor. 

“Woah dude, I got to know a little more about you before we start getting into blood rights. What the hell is going on?” 

Cas is painting something on the wall with his blood now but turns around looking unsurely back at Dean, “I am Castiel, Cas, we’ve met before. I was Ash’s special friend.” He says slowly. 

“I know that,” says Dean irritably, “You were the one who found that bomb, you don’t blink enough. I know who you are, you’re the last one to see Ash before.” Dean stops because Cas isn’t drawing anymore. 

After a silence Cas resumes his work, nodding, “Before he died, yes, we were together for that, I had hoped that killing Jake would be enough to keep the Hell Gate shut but it was only delayed.” 

He sounds hollow and Dean feels a little bad for bringing it up but it was hard to piece together what happened when they found Ash’s body. Hard to understand why Cas would leave him there when it seemed like Ash was the only friend he had in the world, hell Ash used to call him his- 

Oh. 

Oh fucking hell. 

“Yeah man, Dean starts carefully, “We thought you died too, there was a lot of blood around.” 

Cas stops again and steps back to admire the finished product. He nods like it looks right and absently rubs the joint of his shoulder. It’s hard to tell through the coat but it looks like it’s mostly collapsed in on itself. 

When he stops there’s a bloody hand print on the coat where he touched it. 

Cas turns to him, “I know this might be confusing for you, our past meeting was brief and you are just newly risen but you have to believe me that I’m trying to help you,” his expression turns pained, “and…when Gabriel gets here…it’s important that you know that we’re on your side.” 

He rubs the remainder of the blood off on his coat and Ash’s watch catches on the pocket just for a second. 

It strikes Dean that he hasn’t been by the Roadhouse since he got topside. 

It will be nice to check in at home. 

“Yeah man that’s not a problem,” He tells Cas, “I got faith.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Gabriel is supposed to be a messenger and The Horn of Gabriel is tied up in that hence Message Bank. I think you already got that I just always worry about being too vague. Or not vague enough :)  
> I've done my best with timelines but its a season 2 universe about a season 4 character featuring a season 6 magical creature...there are probably issues.  
> Please advise of any spelling/grammatical/format issues I'm sure there are plenty. Constructive criticism and tagging suggestions are welcome


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